Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding. Sharon Kendrick

At last he lifted his head and traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his finger. ‘Don’t go away.’

      Her eyes opened wide in alarm as he pulled away from her. ‘Where…where are you going?’

      ‘Not far.’

      He had leaned across the bed to pull something from the drawer of a gleaming antique table—and it was only when he had ripped the packet open and begun to slide on a condom that Cassie realised what he was doing.

      Tell him.

       Tell him.

      But now he was moving over her and kissing her again and it all seemed so perfect—and wouldn’t it break the mood if she came right out and told him? With a groan and a whispering of her name, he parted her legs and she could feel the rocky tip of him pushing against her molten heat.

      ‘Giancarlo—’

      ‘Sì?’ he breathed raggedly.

      ‘It’s…it’s my first time,’ she gasped, just as he thrust inside her.

      Giancarlo shuddered—but he was in too deep to stop, even as he felt her tense and her nails dig into his shoulders. And even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t have stopped. Not if the world had been about to end. Or maybe that was what was happening. Because now she was clutching him tightly, bringing him into her deeper still—her breath hot on his neck as she bit out his name.

      Her molten tightness sent heated flares of desire rippling through him—devouring him with their intensity as he moved inside her. Never before had he wanted to come quite so much—but he made himself hold back. Using every skill he’d learnt since he lost his own virginity at sixteen, he drove Cassandra closer and closer towards her own sweet oblivion. Didn’t they say it was difficult for a virgin to achieve orgasm the first time? Well, he would make sure that he proved the statistics wrong, he thought grimly—watching her eyes close as she began to abandon herself to the siren call of fulfilment.

      Over and over again, he drew back from the brink—until finally he heard her little cry of disbelief and felt her arch beneath him. Never before could he remember feeling such an intense sense of satisfaction as when she gasped and began to spasm around him—and only when at last she had begun to still beneath him did he allow himself his own release. A release which went on and on—his pleasure only heightened by the anger and disbelief which began to ripple through him as he thought of what he had done.

      Afterwards, he rolled off her and turned over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and taking a moment or two before he could control his breathing enough to speak. And to block out the appeal of her sated beauty—her tousled hair and flushed cheeks and the parted invitation of her breathless lips. ‘That was some surprise you sprang on me, cara.’

      Cassie’s fingers fluttered to her breastbone as she registered the dark note of disapproval in his voice. ‘You mean—about me being a virgin?’

      ‘No, I mean about you being a natural blonde,’ he drawled sarcastically.

      Her warm glow and slightly dreamy sensation rapidly began to evaporate and she bit her lip. ‘I should have told you.’

      Hardening his heart to the anxiety in her violet eyes, he nodded his head in violent agreement. ‘Well, actually you did tell me—only you left it too late for me to do anything about it,’ he growled. Too late for him to do anything but thrust deep inside her with a sense of powerlessness which had overwhelmed him. Because he didn’t do powerlessness. Not any more.

      She looked up into the hard glitter of his black eyes. ‘Would you…would you have stopped then?’

      For a moment he didn’t answer. He wanted to say that yes, he would have stopped—but would he? Could he? If she had mentioned it on the terrace before she had come so eagerly with him to bed—he could have resisted her then, that was for sure. But she hadn’t. She had waited until they were at a point of no return before she had blurted out her unbelievable statement.

      ‘What the hell are you doing letting a man take your virginity from you on a first date?’ he demanded.

      He was acting as if she had done something wrong—shameful even. ‘Somebody has to take it,’ she said flatly.

      ‘But not like that. Not with a man you barely know.’ A man who has no intention of forming any kind of deep or lasting relationship with you. Exasperatedly, he shook his head. ‘How old are you?’

      ‘Twenty-one.’

      So young, he thought bitterly—and yet surely old enough to have had some sexual experience before. ‘And there’s been no one else?’ He gave a hollow kind of laugh. ‘Stupid question. I’ve just proved the answer to that one.’ He could ask her why him,